Just one of these days
by Deelylah
Summary: A quick peek into the mind of Diane Lockhart on a day which just doesn't go the way it's suppossed to.  Timeline: 2 weeks after 2x15
1. Chapter One  9:55

**Title: **Just one of these days

**Author: **Deelylah

**Rating: **K+ right now

**Timeline: **2 weeks after 2x15

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters.

**Author's note: **When I wrote the first chapter it was supposed to be a OneShot, now it's a MultiChap of 7 chapters. I dedicate this story to MarySunshine..Without her I wouldn't have even started writing this.

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><p><strong>Chapter One - 9:55 <strong>

You might be late for court and this thought tortures you. You're never late for court. Never. And you're not planning on starting today so you push yourself just a little harder...

You take a quick peek at your watch as you basically fly up the stairs to the second floor of the courthouse. Realizing that you've already made up the time you spent being caught up in a traffic jam you slow your steps because you don't want to enter the courtroom out of breath if you don't have to.

"What a day," A voice in your head sighs. "And the day has just begun." You tell yourself silently taking another look at your watch: 9:56.

Reaching the top of the stairs you decide that it's all Will's fault. He had this "urgent" matter to discuss and No, it couldn't be postponed till you got back from court. And then you got caught up in a traffic jam. It always comes down to that, doesn't it? You're already late and you get stuck in traffic.

All... Will's... fault...

You make a mental note to yourself that he owes you a drink for making you hurry to court, making you actually RUN to court. One drink is _the least_ he owes you. Nobody makes Diane Lockhart run and just gets away with it. Considering that the urgent matter had been about his season tickets you decide that one is not enough. Two drinks it is. At least!

You don't pay any attention to your surrounding as you advance deeper into the building, your mind is to preoccupied with the trial ahead of you.

"9:23, 10:01, 11:36 and 12:57." You silently tell yourself again because you'll need those times for your cross and you will not, not, NOT use notes just to recall some silly numbers.

"9:23,10:01, 11:36... 11:36? Or was it 11:34? Damn it!" You curse yourself because you've been stumbling across that specific number for the last 24 hours now. 11:36 or 11:34? You just cannot recall. What's wrong with you? You can remember the whole code of law but not that one stupid number?

"Get it together, woman!" You mentally roll your eyes on yourself and it has the desired effect: It's 11:36, you're sure now. You can see the note in front of your inner eye: 11:36 finely written with blue ink on a yellow legal pad. 11:36. You were right all along!

You allow yourself a short smile and turn your head a little. The quick peek down the corridor to your right is a mistake but you have no chance to realize that before it's too late. It's your first mistake in quite some time – if you don't count believing Will that he had an urgent matter to discuss and the little confusion with the numbers - and it's a big one.

You're mind has yet to determine the gravity of that one single gaze but your feet have already decided that on a scale from 1 to 10, it's a straight 10 and they show you that by misstepping. You stumble and you need all your body control not to drop your briefcase as you try simply not to fall. You manage to get a hold of yourself and continue your way down YOUR corridor and away from THAT corridor.

You're grateful Alicia and your client went ahead, this would have been far beyond embarrassing.

But your gratefulness doesn't last for long as your mind processes the information it just received.

"What is he of all people doing here?"

The question starts spinning in your mind, banishing all legal arguments, all dates, all facts, everything else actually. This is not Costa Rica, this is not even "away". _He isn't supposed to be here._

Nevertheless he was standing there, wasn't he? Leaning against the wall, his arms casually crossed in front of his chest, his gaze lowered to a spot on the floor in front of him. It was him, wasn't it? Suddenly you're no longer sure about that... Is it possible that your mind just messed with you? You start to feel insecure and you really hate that feeling.

"Get it together, Lockhart!" You tell yourself silently but nothing happens. You want to turn, want to go back, want to check if it's really him, but you know you'll never make it in time for your court date if you turn now so your feet keep on moving forwards.

"It was him." A voice in your head states matter-of-factly and even though you are relieved that your mind isn't playing tricks on you, you just can't help it and you start getting upset.

You feel the urge to turn back, to confront him, to demand an explanation. He didn't call you after his case in Florida, then he came back to make you choose between your firm and him and he has never even bothered to explain anything. Even though you would never - NEVER - openly admit it but he hurt you - for God's sake - and now he was just standing there! You want an explanation, dammit you DESERVE an explanation, he OWES you...

"GET IT TOGETHER!" You mentally yell at yourself and for a moment there is silence in your head as your steps lead you further and further away from a man who just _isn't supposed to be there_.

"Well done." You congratulate yourself in your mind because you are satisfied that you managed to ban him from your thoughts. You won't let such a minor inconvenience have any kind of influence on the subsequent development of your day. "You don't need to talk like that." His voice teases you from somewhere deep down memory lane. Yes, you do need to talk like that because obviously that's not only how you talk that's also how you think. He never..

"Wait!" You tell yourself silently and you frown. How exactly did your train of thoughts end up with _him_ again?

You can't really recall, you just know that you shouldn't bother thinking of him.

It was over.

He was gone.

Even though actually he was standing just down the hall...

You turn a corner and spot the door to the courtroom you'll be arguing in. You NEED to focus now. You take a deep breath. "9:23, 10:01, 11... 11...11..."Ah for God's sake, that is what notes are for, isn't it?

You grab the door handle and when you enter the courtroom a small sigh of relief escapes your lips: You made it in time.

As you approach the defense table your mind decides that it won't let that little incident get away so easily. A memory fights it's way up into your consciousness and suddenly you see yourself standing next to the witness stand right there in that courtroom.

"_And what happened to his fourth car?" "Mr. Knox claimed that it was stolen the day after the murder. It was never recovered." "Thank you, Mr. McVeigh."_

The words echo through your head and you can see him sitting there, looking at you...

"Diane, is there a problem?"

You realize just now that Alicia is looking at you. You have no idea what she was talking about, no indication of how long she's actually been talking and – thinking about it now - you don't have a single clue if she had said anything at all prior to that last question, but you are not going to admit any of that.

"No problem." You say in perfect sync with the voice in your head. The voice of a man who_ is just not supposed to be there_...

You take another deep breath and gather up all your mental strength to push the thoughts of him aside.

11.34, right?


	2. Chapter Two  11:43

**Chapter Two - 11:43**

"Good.." You hear Alicia mumble and you can't stop your left eyebrow from twitching a little while you put your legal pad into your briefcase.

"Good?" It echoes in your head. "Good?"

If this was "good" than you definitely don't want to see "bad".

Yes, you nullified that witness but No, it wasn't "good". Stupid numbers...

"Simple battery. 1 year, no probation." You hear Brody's voice to your right as you take your glasses off. You are not surprised by the offer, attempted murder was just over the top.

"No." You close your briefcase. You are not going to plead this out. Brody has lost and he knows it. He is just trying to keep a straight face.

"You should probably take the offer to your client."

"Okay," you have admit silently, "he has a point", so you turn your head a little just to notice that your client has already left. You are surprised but you make sure that neither your face nor your voice give that away when you turn to Brody: "As you can see my client has already left. And he will do the exact same thing tomorrow: He will leave this building as a free man." Okay, in your head this sounded more convincing but well... It was better then "Oh my, where did he go?", right?

But it is actually a very good question, isn't it? Where exactly did your client go? And when?

"Offer stands for two hours." You watch Brody step back to the prosecutor's table as you pick up your briefcase.

He has lost, you have won.

No need to consider pleading it out.

Easily earned billable hours.

Why did this go to trial again?

A first-year fresh out of law school could win this.

"And a first-year might have even recalled the right numbers." A voice in your head teases you and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes on yourself.

As you take your first steps towards the exit you feel like you have forgotten about something... What was it again?

Ah, yes, your client, the offer, of course.

"Go and find our client. Tell him about the offer." You instruct Alicia. Someone's got to do it and it definitely won't be you because your next appointment is in less than an hour and you need to grab a bite first.

Why did you agree to sit in on one of Will's meetings again?

And why does he schedule meetings for 12.30?

„Ms. Lockhart?" You have been to far too many social events to actually think when you hear someone call out your name.

If you had given it just one second your mind would have been able to link the voice to an all too familiar face and you might have been able to avoid the fault of facing him.

But you hadn't so now you have to deal with it.

He is standing there like he'd done earlier next to that other courtroom door and you can't help but wonder why he seems to spent his time leaning against walls these days.

You allow yourself one quick gaze: usual boots, blue jeans, red-checkered shirt, black jacket.

Handsome. You know there is no use denying that so you don't even try.

"Yes?" You ask as you take just a small step towards him. He called out for you it would be just impolite to go by without saying anything. Especially since you have already turned.

Nevertheless you mix a little huffiness into your tone of voice. It's not like you are actually keen to see him, isn't it?

You can see his eyes wander from your face, down your chest, down your hips, down your legs, to your feet, up your legs, resting on your legs for a second – Why did you choose a skirt over pants this morning? - , up your hips, up your chest and back to your face.

You are aware of the fact that you're wearing a striped suit but with his gaze all over you you feel not only striped but also stripped.

Something tells you to get out of there but you are not ready to listen.

Not yet.

You are too curious.

What does he want?

"Looking good." He says and this time your eyes actually roll. There is no way this could be happening. He can't be standing there after all that's been and just say that. He shouldn't even be there...

Nevertheless he was standing there and he had just said that...

Furthermore you just admitted to yourself that he was looking quite handsome himself, so what was wrong with him saying that you are looking good?

" Everything!" You mentally yell at yourself. He isn't supposed to even be there!

"What do you want?" You are actually surprised by the slight hostility in your own voice but hey, after all he walked out on you, right?

….

Right?

While he seems to be considering an appropriate answer you can feel the rest of your patience melt away.

He had been waiting here for you so he has to know what he wants, doesn't he?

"Dinner " You cannot really determine if it was a question or a statement, if he is asking you out for dinner or if he is saying that... You pull the plug on that train of thoughts because you have just realized that both possibilities are equally insane. What?

You can tell by the look on his face that he is actually waiting for an answer. He has got to be kidding.

"Busy." You are astounded by your own reply. Not only by its lack of eloquence but also by its lack of truth. Well, yes, you have to give a closing argument tomorrow but prepping a closing for this case isn't exactly an all evening activity.

"Tomorrow?" You know that he isn't exactly the talkative kind of person but these 1- and 2-word sentences are starting to drive you insane. You know that he _can_ talk, you have heard him talking for minutes - for God's sake - why can't he just talk now?

Why can't he just tell you what is going on?

Why doesn't he just speak his mind?

And while you are on yourquest for reasons:  
>Why haven't you refused his invitation yet?<p>

"Ms. Lockhart?" You can tell by the way he looks at you that he knows.

He knows he got to you.

He knows you are struggling.

And you're convinced he knows that this time his tone of voice had to trigger a certain memory..

But you are not going there! You won't think about his barn, unsigned retainer agreements, your messed up hair, his bare chest, the heat of...

NO! Not going there!

"You cannot do that, Kurt." And with _that_ you mean everything. Be there, look at you, talk to you, ask you out. Everything.

"What?" You cannot believe that he is actually asking that. He has got to be kidding you right? You look at him and you feel like screaming.

_You cannot walk in and out of my life like that! _The words are spinning through your mind, it might feel good to just let them out...

But your mouths stays shut.

You are not going to make a scene. Not here, not anywhere. Never. No.

You NEED to get out of there.

The urge to just turn and leave is stronger now but you stay right in place. You are not going to leave just because! That would be pathetic, wouldn't it? But you really need...

Will's meeting! Of course! Thank God!

"I've got to go, I have an appointment." You try to sound casual and even though these words have left your lips so many times before they seem not to float but to stumble out of your mouth.

You start to leave without waiting for a reply. You know you are being impolite but you are not going to jeopardize your way out of this by waiting.

"We should talk some time." You hear his words but you don't turn back.

And you bite your tongue to secure that it doesn't do anything stupid.

As you concentrate on your steps – you don't exactly trust your feet because of that prior incidence – you can feel his gaze upon you.

And somewhere deep down buried in the last corner of your mind you actually have to admit that it feels good.. that you enjoy him looking at you...

"Keep going." You command yourself because you can sense that your feet want to turn.

You are not going back.

You are not even looking back.

He hurt you.

More than once.

He cannot walk in and out of your life as he pleases.

As you turn the corner you release a sharp breath.

Oh my, you actually held your breath?


	3. Chapter Three  12:29

_Authors's note: The character of Shannon Wilbanks is my own, I felt like having borrowed enough Chars already ;)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three - 12:29<strong>

You leave your office and take a quick gaze at your watch: 12:29.

Will's meeting is supposed to start in a minute and he told you to meet him in the conference room so why is he still sitting at his desk?

You take a step closer to his door and now you can see that he is on the phone with someone. Good that _he_ doesn't seem to be in any hurry to arrive at _his_ meeting in time. Why did you rush here again?

He looks up and when he motions you to enter you know that you are probably not going to like what he has got to say. "And you're still mad at him for making you run to court" you remind yourself. Ah, yes, of course.

While you slowly approach his desk, Will covers up the receiver with his right hand and explains: "Shannon Wilbanks has some kind of trial-emergency."

No, you are definitely not liking this. So you hurried for nothing?

You feel how your thoughts drift towards a man you left standing at the courthouse but you pull them back before they can inflict any severe damage. After all Will is still talking to you and you shouldn't be thinking about that man anyway.

"She won't make it, she says she needs to prep some witness. Cary obviously caught her red-handed."

You can't keep your lips from curling a little. Even though you consider her a friend of yours the thought of Shannon Wilbanks being caught red-handed during a trial truly amuses you. You know that she can be pretty self-righteous sometimes, so you decided that it is a good thing someone brought her back to earth.

"And she asks if you're okay." What? Your smile disappears while your eyebrows elevate.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why?" You search through your memory but you cannot find any incident which could have given Shannon a reason to ask if you are okay... The two of you spoke just three days ago, nothing happened since then, nothing that would give her a reason to ask for...

Unless...

Oh no..

That can't be true...

"Shannon, Diane says she's fine and..." He can't finish his sentence because you just snatch the phone from his hand without any further thought. This is totally none of his business. This is not even Shannon's business: "Shannon?"

Will gives you a teasing grin: "You can be such a killjoy, Diane." But you don't care. He can grin all he wants, there are more important matters at hand here.

"Oh Hi, Diane. You sound upset." You can hear that the other woman is grinning. "How are you?"

Upset might actually be the right term, but you are not going to admit that.

"I'm fine. Is there any particular reason for you to ask?" You turn aside. It's enough that Will can overhear this conversation, he doesn't have to see your mimic while doing so.

"Just caring for a friend." You roll your eyes. As if. You can hear that she is positively amused. This is so not funny.

"I saw you in court today. You seemed to be a bit... in a hurry..." She doesn't have to continue, her tone of voice is enough to proof your fear to be true: She saw you trembling. And you know that she will tease you with it till the end of days. But how could...

In the corner of your eyes you see Will's hand pushing a button on the phone. You turn to him. He is still grinning.. Still? Or again?

"You're on speaker now, Shannon. Diane refuses to give me my phone back." Aw, what a liar! He didn't even try to get his phone back.

You hand him the receiver because there is obviously no point in holding it as long as the speaker is on.

"Shannon, I will call you from my office." You turn to leave. Why didn't you think about this earlier? You seem not to be at your best today.

"No need to do that any time soon. I need to make a few other calls and I'm meeting my ballistics expert in 30 minutes. And I'll be back in court at 4 so I don't think I'll have time to chat until 6." You nod even though you are aware of the fact that she cannot see that. And you make a mental note to call her later ton...

Wait a minute! Her ballistics expert? Your feet freeze in place.

Oh no...

No...

Not her...

Not _him._

Thinking about it now it actually makes sense...

Sort of...

She saw you trembling, she might have been standing right next to him for all you know...

Why has she never mentioned that she knew him?

And how does she know him?

And why does she know him?

And why was he still here when he had been talking to you about going away? And not only was he here but he was also.. also testifying for.. for _her_!

While you are trying to make sense of all of this you can overhear Shannon and Will getting on with their conversation:

"This young blond with the States Attorney's office... What his name again? Aros...Algos.."

"Agos."

"Yes right. Didn't he use to work for you?"

"Yes."

You turn back to Will and the phone.

You are still trying to link Shannon and Kurt but you don't feel like you are actually making any progress.

Too many pieces of the puzzle are missing...

Maybe you should just ask her.

Maybe...

But not now.

Not with Will around...

"Oh my, you should have taught him some manners. He just ambushed me in court. Hurt my case badly."

You have to smile again. Why exactly didn't you hire Cary back? Must have been Will's fault.. Once again...

"And just last week he had my prior ballistics expert arrested. Did you hear that Limbstein got arrested?"

"I did."

"We seem to be running low on good ballistic experts these days. Any thoughts on that, Diane?" Aw, this is who your friends are? You should probably consider finding new ones...

You know that Will is watching you closely but you make sure that your faces doesn't give the tiniest bit of your mind away.

"Thoughts? I _think_ you said you had no time to chat and here you are chatting. What's with that?" It is not exactly an answer to her question but who cares?

"You've got a point." Of course you have. Even though it was just a cheap yet successful attempt to relocate the center of the conversation...

"I know I do."

"We're still on for dinner tomorrow night?" Dinner.. Tomorrow... Something tries to make its way into your consciousness but the thought is still to vague to grab. Ah, whatever.

"I will give you a call." After you have decided if she is still your friend.

"Good.. And since we're still talking like adults here, I guess my little present concerning the Volcmas-case has yet to be discovered?"

You have no idea what she is talking about but since _someone insisted_ on taking that case why should you? Looking at Will you can see the confusion on his face. He doesn't seem to have the slightest idea what she is referring to.

"I take that as a "no"." Wilbanks states simply. Now it is your turn to watch your law firm partner closely. This might get interesting...

"What surprise?" Will is worried. You can hear it in his voice.

"Just look through your mail, it must be already there." Your eyes follow Will's hands which are flying over the desk and through a bunch of papers. Finally he lifts a white envelope. It seems to contain a small object.

"Is that a bomb?" You hear yourself asking without taking your eyes of the mailer. It was the first thought that came to your mind. Maybe you should really consider finding new friends if a bomb is the first thing that comes to your mind when you see mail sent by one of your current friends.

"Oh no, no. You'll have fun with it but it won't blow you up." Good to know.

"What is it then?" Will asks sceptically, slowly starting to open the envelope.

"I'm not going to spoil the surprise. I've got to go now, Diane, just give me a call concerning dinner. Byebye."

Suddenly the vague thought manifests itself:

Dinner,

Tomorrow,

Kurt!

You mentally roll your eyes on yourself: You are not actually considering having dinner with him tomorrow? You...

"It's a key..." Will mumbles and interrupts your train of thoughts. ".. and an address to.. I don't know... My guess would be... a storage unit?"

You have a hard time to suppress the laughter which is climbing up your throat. Thank God Will insisted on taking that case!

You turn to leave before he even gets the chance to consider asking you for help.

But even though you want to get out of there as quickly as possible you just have to tease him a little: "Good that you decided to take that case. Otherwise I would have to deal that storage-unit now. My guess would be.. mhm.. Maybe 20 boxes of discovery?"

He doesn't seem to hear you, he's already pushing buttons on his cell.

"Ah, and Diane?" You have already reached the door and you are not sure if you really should turn back..

"Yes?"

"I didn't know you were friends with Shannon Wilbanks." There are a lot of things he doesn't know about you, what is so special about this one?

"I'm starting to worry about you." He sounds honest and you have to frown. Did you miss something? What is it with all the worrying today?

"And why is that?"

He puts his cell to his ear: "You seem to spent your life around Republicans these days. That's really scary."

What? You do not, do you?

"I..." You leave the sentence unfinished for Will has already started talking to someone at the other end of the line.

But thinking about it now you have to admit that he has a point.

Aw, that really _is_ scary, what is wrong with you?


	4. Chapter Four  15:52

**Chapter Four – 15:52**

This time you are prepared.

This time you are not going to duck out of it.

You saw him when you stepped back from the bench a few minutes earlier. He was hard to miss. At least for you.

"You can go ahead, I will meet you at the office." You can tell by the look on Alicia's face that she has seen him too. And that she wondering if or if not to comment. She makes the right decision: "Okay."

She seems to hesitate a second. If she dares to remind you that you have to give a closing argument tomorrow she will regret it. You are not sure what you will do, but she will regret it. This is none of her business and you don't need to be told what your job is.

Again she decides right and just leaves. Good.

You take your time.

No need to hurry.

You have all the time in the world.

And it's got nothing to do with fact that you know that he is probably due in court in 7 minutes.

Nothing!

"Are you stalking me?" He is waiting for you at the door. This time you don't look him up but you are fully aware that he does his looking. Yet again.

"No," he says, searching for your gaze, "I just figured that since you didn't exactly respond to my question earlier I might just drop by and collect the answer."

"The answer?" You risk a short glance into his eyes. Immediately you feel like falling, like drowning, like losing yourself.

You blink.

"Yes. Concerning dinner." You are sure there was an appropriate reply on your mind just a second ago but it's gone now.

"I think we should talk." He adds and you can't stop your right eyebrow from twitching.

"Talk?" You echo as if you have heard that word for the first time and you can't help but wonder what kind of talking he is referring to.

Talking like you do all the talking while sits there and watches you blabber away?

Or talking like you say something, he says something and then you silently agree that are more fun ways to spent your time than talking?

Or does he actually mean talking? Like adults. Not that the second kind of talking was for...

Luckily he interrupts your train of thoughts at that point. You're not sure that it would haven been helpful if it had gotten a chance to continue.

"Talk." You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Yes, that answer was helpful.

"Talk..."This time the echo is only in your mind.

The two of you aren't exactly good at that kind of talking he actually might be referring to.

You are good at other things.

Really good.

You need nearly all your mental strength to pull yourself back into the present and as you look at face of the man next to you, you can tell that he considers something to be odd. You know this whole situation is strange on so many levels but this can't be odd to him, can it? After all HE created that situation, he caused this. So this can't possibly be what he considers odd...

Something is...

Oh my...

You realize just now that you are actually biting your lower lip.

You haven't bitten your lower lip in public since High school!

In private, yes. Behind locked doors, save from all gazes you have bitten your lower lip, bitten other lower lips, bitten these lower lips, his delicious …

FOCUS! Oh my.

You cough slightly just to win some more time. "I.." you start and you know that it would be so easy to sent him away.

- I don't think we should.

- I don't think this is a good idea.

- I don't think there is anything we should talk about.

- I think you should leave me alone.

There are so many possibilities in your head which would sent him off. You just need to pick one.

The sound of quickly approaching high heels makes you turn your head and your sentence remains unfinished.

"Shannon, what a surprise." You state while watching the other Attorney closely.

You know she has been looking for _him_.

That she has come for _him_...

Isn't this skirt a little too short for court?

"Diane." She smiles politely. She seems to be tensed. Why could she be tensed?

Maybe because he is standing next to _you_ - right next to _you_ - close to _you_ and not...

"She has a trial coming up and she is loosing, that is the reason why she is tensed." Your common sense suddenly kicks in. Where did these other thoughts come from?

"Sorry to interrupt your little get-together, but", she turns to the man next to you, "Kurt, we really need to get back to the trial." Did she just say "Kurt"?

"Your testimony is next and I think the judge is already enough pro-prosecution so I don't want to get on her bad side even more by being late." She actually called him Kurt!

"So you probably should get going then." You have to suppress a small grin. Yes, it's not Kurt's fault that Shannon and her judge don't get along, so why should he care?

Obviously Wilbanks is not as thrilled about that reply as you are. "4 o'clock. Please be on time." She gives you a polite smile and leaves.

"_Kurt?" _You mimic the moment she is out of earshot and you immediately feel like slapping yourself. That was really mature, wasn't it?

But it doesn't feel right that she's calling him Kurt.

It just doesn't sound right.

"It's his name, get over it." You tell yourself and you can't stop the corners of your mouth from arching a little.

Yes, it's his name...

You have said this name far too often not to know that it's his name.

Said,whispered, sighed, ...

Yet again you need to pull your thoughts back. Getting lost somewhere deep down memory lane is not exactly helpful right now.

" How do you know each other?" You nod into the general direction of the end of the corridor. You try to sound casual but you have no idea if you are succeeding.

"Let's say we have some common friends."

You turn to him and you actually have to smile: "Common friends? Who? Smith and Wesson?"

"You know, a little jealousy suits you quite well, Ms. Lockhart." He grins and you try to get upset over that comment. You are not jealous. No way. Why should you be by the way? It is just ridiculous...

"I'm not jealous." You are still smiling a little. So much for trying to get upset...

"Let's talk over dinner. Tomorrow since you seem to be busy tonight."

"No need to talk about it, I'm not jealous." A short gaze into his eyes tells you that that isn't what he meant and you remember that he didn't say "talk about it" just "talk".

You somehow manage to tear your eyes away from his.

"I..." you start but then you hesitate. You were close to saying "will call you" but the last time one of you said that it turned out to be even worse than a stupid phrase.

It was a broken promise.

"I need to think about it."

"_So I need to think about it. It's not a brush off." _This time it's not a brush off either, is it? You really do need to think about it, don't you? But didn't you plan to send him off just two minute ago? What happened?

He nods and you cannot help but wonder if he recalls that line too...

The silence which is spreading tortures you because it leaves space for more memories:

"_You should have called me... When you got back from that case in Florida."_ "_You're right, I should've... I'm sorry."_

Maybe you should talk...

"I've got to go." He says after what? A second? A minute? You have no idea how much time just passed.

You nod because actually you just don't know what to say. Goodbye and good luck? Well, wishing him good luck for his testimony would probably not be the worst thing to do...

The moment you open your mouth you feel the vibrate alert of your cell go off. Nice timing... You start searching for your phone in your briefcase but every now and then you risk a peak into the direction of the man who is now walking down the hall.

Of course the caller is Will... Of course... Who else?

Before answering you take a last quick look down the corridor and you actually feel your heart skip a beat when you see that before turning the corner Kurt risks a short gaze back at you.

"_I need to think about it." _Your own voice echoes through your head...

So much for sending him off.

Bravo.

Keep all options open, Lockhart.

Oh my.


	5. Chapter Five  18:11

**Chapter Five - 18:11**

"She really buried us..." Will mumbles for the fifth time now. Yes you have been counting. Yes, you are actually that annoyed. But good that he doesn't seem to care.

You look up from the legal pad in front of you and put your pen down. You haven't been able to write a single word since Will entered your office so why bothering holding the pen?

"You should probably get to work then." You simply state for the third time with the last minutes. It seems to be a really difficult advice.

As you lean back in your chair your eyes are drawn to that stupid baseball of his.

Up and down,

throw and catch,

up and down...

He's been toying with it ever since he entered your office approximately 10 minutes ago and you feel your level of annoyance rising with every

up and down,

up and down,

up and down.

He notices your gaze and the ups and downs stop.

You have asked him twice to stop the throwing.

And you have been very polite.

If you have to tell him a third time you might be anything but polite.

He seems to be aware of that risk, yet he is unable to hold his hand still so he starts shuffling the ball from one hand into the other. At least that way you don't have to listen to that annoying "blop"-sound when he catches it.

As the silence manifests itself you decide to give your closing another try and lean forward. Where were you? "The police..." Ah, yes.. You pick up your pen again. "The police..."

The moment your pen touches the paper you notice a movement in the corner of your eyes and it makes you freeze.

blop... Your eyes slowly move up while you find yourself unable to move the rest of your body. He has got to be kidding!

blop... Over the border of your glasses you can see that stupid ball fly up and fall down.

blop... Up... Down...

blop.

It's starting to drive you insane. You feel the urge to jump to your feet and just yell at him to stop it, but you simply don't. You won't let that stupid baseball get the better of you.

Up... down... blop... aaaaw

"This might turn out to become a very long weekend. 18 boxes approximately 3000 pages each." You hear his words, you process the information, you set the counter to six and yet you cannot draw your gaze away from that.. that thing!

Up... down... blop...

"I mean, when did she even print all these pages? It's just insane. We'll never find what she buried in there."

We?

We...?

You are so not offering your help as long as this stupid baseball keeps on flying up in the air.

As if Will just read your thoughts the throwing and catching stops and the shuffling is back. You breath out and finally feel able to move again so you lean back.

Now that you don't have to deal with that flying annoyance any longer you cannot help but frown at Wills complaint. If it's really that much work why is he still sitting on your couch doing nothing but keep you from working?

Again silence spreads.

And again you lean forward with the naive illusion that you might actually get back to work now. This time your pen doesn't even make it to the paper.

blop... up.. down...

unbelievable...

blop... up.. down...

actually...

blop... up...

unbearable!

"That's enough, I'm going home." This time "down" is really down and for a moment the only sound comes from the baseball which is bouncing over the floor. Just for a split second you wish that the earth would just crack open and swallow that stupid toy but as suddenly as this ridiculous wish appeared on your mind it is also vanished.

"What?" Will doesn't even try to mask his confusion, but well, letting fall his precious toy would have given him away anyway.

"I'm going home." This time you underline your statement by getting up, taking your glasses off and starting to pack your briefcase. You have had enough of this. You need to get somewhere where you can actually work. Your study seems to be the perfect place for that.

"You can't." You freeze as these words echo through your mind. Did he really just say that? You turn around slowly, very slowly and you feel how your left eyebrow elevates. No one tells you what you can or cannot do...

"Excuse me?" You ask without any attempt to hide your annoyance anymore. One step too far is one step too far.

"Sorry, bad choice of words." Will admits and lifts his arms in defense. He seems to be a little intimidated right now and he damn well should be!

While picking up his precious little toy he continues: "I could really use some help with the Volcmas-case."

Okay, he got himself buried in discovery, then he came into your office, kept you from working, annoyed you beyond all measure, did not lift a single finger to get the work done and now he was asking for help? Did you get that right? Because in some way that sounds really ridiculous.

"I'm due in court tomorrow and I need to finish my closing." You put your file into your briefcase. You are not going to lose any sleep over Will's case.

Especially not before giving a closing.

Especially not after what happened today with the numbers.

Especially not after the 15 minutes you just spent with Will.

"But..." He starts and even though you feel the urge to spin around and tell him that "No" actually means "No" you try to stay as calm as possible. You are not in the mood to pick a fight. You just want to go home, finish your work, take a long bath and leave that day behind. ".. it's an important client."

You take a deep breath and try to gather your thoughts.

"Maybe tomorrow." After all it's not his fault that he got buried in documents, right? And it's your firm, too, so Volcmas is also your client.

You are still busy with packing so you are not able to see the look on his face, but since there is no sound of footsteps he obviously isn't satisfied with the answer. You close your briefcase, pick it up and finally turn to Will, who – surprise – is still sitting on your couch.

You can see in his eyes that he is considering his possibilities, thinking about trying to talk you into staying, pondering about if it is worth picking a fight. You hold his gaze and you can see his mind spinning fast while there is currently just one thing on your own: Don't. Give. In.

This thought seems to be a lot around today, doesn't it? You allow your thoughts to drift a little and you start regretting that immediately.

"_We should talk."_

You can feel how your pokerface starts cracking. You have managed to hit your Achilles heel all by yourself. Good job! If Will manages to wear you down now it is your own fault. Bravo!

"Okay.." Will states and you need all your discipline to hold a sigh of relief from escaping your mouth. That was close.

"I better get to work." Haven't you been saying that all along?

He leaves and you get your coat. As you turn off the lights you take a look at your cell: One missed call from Shannon Wilbanks.

"_A little jealousy suits you quite well, Ms. Lockhart." _You can hear the words as if he was standing right next to you in the darkness...

You shake your head a little in a poor attempt to free your mind. Yes, you told him you would think about it, but No, it won't be tonight. After all you are due in court tomorrow morning and you have to finish a closing.

Maybe you should take some more work with you. Something that keeps your mind busy once you've finished your closing, so you won't get... distracted.

No! You decide.

No! Your life, your mind! You're in control! You don't need to keep yourself occupied with legal documents.

As you lead your steps towards the elevator you decide to ignore that one single voice in your head which actually seems to be laughing at you.


	6. Chapter Six  20:23

**Chapter Six - 20:23**

You take off your glasses, lean back and stretch your arms. You are finally done for the night.

The closing sounds convincing and you are satisfied that it turned out that well even though Will seemed to be eager to avert that. Leaving the office early to work at home was probably the best decision you made today.

You get up, turn off the lights and leave your study slowly while taking off your earrings.

When you arrived at home you went straight to work without wasting any time on changing or getting rid of your jewelry.

Now that your closing is done you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want.

You enter your bedroom and you can already picture the long hot bath: You can see the dimmed light from some lit candles, smell the slight scent of lavender, feel the bubbles on your skin.

You have earned that bath. This day was just... strange. And exhausting.

You unclip your watch and risk a short gaze: 20:25. It feels like 23:25. Or even later.

While unbuttoning your blouse you catch a glimpse of your nightstand and immediately your eyes are drawn to your copy of Hillary Clinton's "Living history".

Your fingers stop and you just have to smile.

"_I bought a.. a Hillary Bio. For 50Cents on Ebay." _

Oh my, you were so sure he had just made it up because.. well, he likes Sarah Palin, what was he supposed to do with a Hillary Bio?

But he showed it to you.

You _made_ him show it to you.

He actually bought it...

Your smile vanishes as a sharp cold starts spreading through your body.

Suddenly the hot bath - which seemed to be all you ever wanted just a moment ago - doesn't sound even a bit appealing any more and the warmth within your rooms seems to be unable to fight the coldness which starts building up inside of you.

Your gaze is still stuck at the autobiography.

"_Misses Clinton seems to be doing quite well for herself." _You remember him standing there in your office as the cold keeps on circulating through your veins.

"_Yes, so is your girl Palin. 2012, huh?"_

You feel the urge to shiver but you know it won't help you against that kind of cold.

You know that coldness,

You have had your share of loneliness to know what it feels like.

And you know that shivering wouldn't make any difference at all.

You close your eyes, unsure what to do next.

"_Palin, 2012."_

You can feel his arms around you, his body close to yours. It was the last time he hold you, the last kiss you shared. He made you laugh even though you felt like crying.

But even that memory is not enough to keep you warm right now, you still feel like freezing from the inside.

He never failed to make you laugh.

But he also hurt you. He just vanished for no apparent reason. And he came back just to leave you again...

You take a deep breath and open your eyes.

You know you will make it through.

You always make it through.

Alone.

Why should it be any different this time?

Your feet seem to disagree because suddenly you find yourself standing in the darkness of your study and you are already reaching for your cell which you left on the desk. The bright light of the display hurts your eyes and you turn your head. This physical pain makes you hesitate.

What are you doing? You don't even know what to say, why call him?

"Because he wanted to talk." you remind yourself, "So you don't have to know what to say. _He_ wanted to talk."

Your thumb slowly strikes over the numbers without actually pushing any.

What exactly are you waiting for?

You search for an answer but you just can't find one so you start dialing. Your heart is beating a little faster as you put the phone to your ear.

The first ring - You take a deep breath.

The second ring - You feel how your feet are getting restless so you leave your study.

The third ring - Another deep breath.

The forth ring – You can feel a hint of impatience. Why can't he just pick up the phone?

The fifth ring - Why are you doing this again?

The sixth ring - _Oh my. _Another deep breath.

The seventh ring - You are back in your bedroom. What are you doing here?

The eighth ring - Why doesn't he just pick up that damned phone?

The nin... "Hello?" He sounds out off breath. Why does he sound out of breath? And why didn't he pick up earlier? There is only one way to find out: "Hey, am I interrupting anything?"

"Diane?" He sounds surprised, did he expect someone else? You are tempted to spell that question out but he continues: "No, I just didn't hear the phone earlier."

For a moment you consider asking him what kept him from hearing the phone or how his testimony in court went today – Well, the usual small talk - but this isn't the reason you called, is it? So it's probably the best solution to cut right to the core: "You wanted to talk?"

"Now?" He sounds like you just caught him a little off guard. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Well, if you are busy..."  
>"No, I ain't. I'm just a little surprised actually."<br>"I told you I would think about it and I did. So let's talk."

"On the phone?" You cannot miss hearing the faint hint of disapproval which is cracking through his voice. Talking on the phone would be the easy way out for you. It is so much easier to be angry, hurt, disappointed - and also rational for that matter - when you don't have to actually face him.

But he is right, isn't he? It..

Before you can think this through any further he continues with a slightly teasing tone:"We're actually _that _mature?"

For a moment you are out of words. How can he dare to imply that you are not mature enough to face him? Even though there might be a little truth to it, how can he just...

You shake your head.

There are no words for that.

"So," he finally asks after a period of time which length you are unable to even guess.

So? Had he known that this comment would get to to? Or did your silence given you away?

"My place or yours? Or somewhere in between?"


	7. Chapter Seven  21:26

**Chapter Seven – 21:26**

He is already waiting for you on the door steps and you have to admit that you are actually grateful for that. Every additional second spent in that biting cold is just a second too long.

"Hey" he states simply as you approach the door. "I didn't expect you for another 10 minutes. You shouldn't have driven that fast with the roads being that bad. Actually you shouldn't have driven at all." But if things go wrong it's always easier to leave then to ask someone to leave, isn't it? That's why you are here. And if you are actually true to yourself you have to admit that you wouldn't have known what to do while waiting for him to arrive. This was easier.  
>And why does he start with the roads again? You have talked this through over the phone. The roads are fine.<p>

He steps aside and the warmth of the house welcomes you as you enter.

"I was at home and you know that it is usually just a 45 minutes drive so actually I'm a little late." He seems to be surprised. Obviously he was under the mistaken impression that you had been at the office.

"I see." He says and closes the door to keep the cold out. "Let me take your coat." As he helps you out of your coat you can feel his right hand touching your shoulder and even though it is through the fabric and only for a split second, your heart seems to go just a little faster than it probably should.

"Would you like some coffee or tea? You must be freezing." He motions you to step ahead into the kitchen.

"I'm fine, thank you." Actually you are still a little cold but you are sure that caffeine might not be a good at that moment.

He beckons you to have a seat and you sit down at his large kitchen table. You choose the chair opposed to the one he positioned himself next to. A little distance might not be the worst. "Are you sure?"

It is not the same tone of voice as it was back then,yet it triggers a memory:

"_Are you sure?" "Yes, I can't leave here now.."_

It's time to cut the small talk.

"This isn't exactly Costa Rica." Oh my. There is no possible way you could have expressed that thought even more stupid, is there?

"You're right." You take a quick gaze around his kitchen. It is more than obvious that you are right.

"Weren't you talking about going away?" You are still feeling stupid. You know the answer to that question, yet you are asking anyway. What is the point?

"I was." He sits down and watches you closely.

"But you are still here." You cross your legs and you can feel how you are getting impatient. If this "talking" continues that way you will be home sooner than you expected.

"I am." Okay, he wanted to talk and you were willing to but this isn't talking, this is stupid.

Even though your impatience is growing with every passing second you try to sound calm: "This isn't exactly how I pictured this conversation to be like." You cross your arms in front of your chest as you lean back.

"I know." You can't stop your eyes from rolling: It is just unbelievable.

This time you are not going to be the one who breaks the silence. Now it is his he has got something to say or to talk about then now is the right time.

"I'm sorry." As these words shatter the quietness you look up and you simply stare at him. Even though you really appreciate these words, you can't help but wonder what it is he is sorry for.

For not talking?

For not calling?

For making you choose between him and your firm?

What exactly is he sorry for?

"For?" You just have to ask because he doesn't seem to be willing to continue.

"First of all for ambushing you like that in the courthouse today. That wasn't.. right."

You feel like someone just emptied a barrel with cold water over your head. How can he say something like that? If he hadn't ambushed you in court today you wouldn't be sitting here. Is that what he is sorry for? That you are here?

And this was only "first of all"... If the second point is that he is sorry for making you drive out here in the middle of the night than you might actually yell at him.

"But I wanted to talk to you." Okay, better, you can feel your agitation decreasing. "I've done a lot of thinking over the last two weeks. And I'm sorry for holding that gun to your head. It was wrong of me to just walk away."

You are still staring at him, trying to process what he just said. You can feel your anger vanishing into thin air.

He was sorry for walking away.

Not for proposing, not for wanting to go away with you but for leaving when you told him that you had to stay here.

Some part of you tells you that this is enough. That you don't need to hear more, that you should just let it rest and move on.

But another part of you feels unable to let it go.

"Then why did you do it?" You make sure that it doesn't sound like an accusation, try to show that you would just like to have an explanation.

"I thought I hadn't much of a choice." He thought what? Does that make any sense?

"What?" You probably should have just let it go. But now it's too late.

"Your job..." This is not happening is it? You feel anger rising up inside of you and you just can't do anything about it.

"My job?" you intervene harshly and jump up from your chair, "I can't believe it! It's about the Arkin deposition, right?" You just cannot believe that he is actually bringing that up again! You have talked this through, you have moved past it.

At least that is what you believed.

At least that is what he _made you_ believe.

"It's not about that." His voice is still calm, how can he be so calm?

"It is not? Then what is it about, Kurt?"

"You remember two weeks after that? When we were going to spent the weekend here at my place and you got buried in work?" Why is he bringing that weekend up again? That was nothing.

"That kind of things happen if you have a job like mine." He can't have meant that as he said "Your job...", can he? The nephew of a major client got arrested and faced to be charged with double-homicide. You had to work that week-end. You just had to. How can he blame you for that? He has to know that this is who you are. "You can't blame me for having a busy schedule. That's who I am and you should know that."

"You didn't even call to cancel." As he speaks these words he is looking right into your eyes and you feel like someone just slapped you.

"That is not true." You hold his gaze but your voice doesn't sound so angry anymore. Why doesn't your voice sound so angry anymore?

"You're right. I'm sorry. You called at 3 when I expected you to be here at 12." You can't hear any trace of anger in his voice and his words don't sound like an accusation but rather like a stated fact. You turn your head a little because you know that he is right. You were just... busy.

But you called!

"And two weeks after that, remember?" He continues and you feel unable to reply anything as you sink back onto your chair. You know where this is heading and you don't like it. And how can he actually be that calm? Shouldn't he be upset or something?

"When we were supposed to have dinner that Friday night? And you just didn't show up?" That is not fair, you decide.

That...

is...

not...

fair!

"It was an emergency, I told you that." A business-emergency... Your voice is no longer angry but sullen now.

"That's not the point." He states yet again and you already knew that. You were just hoping...

What were you hoping for?

That this stupid line would just make everything right?

Would prevent the following sentence from being spoken?

"You didn't even call me."

Still not fair. You had no reception. You told him that... didn't you?

You remain silent as stare at the wall.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might have been worried about you?"

"And that's coming from a man who didn't call me after he came back from Florida? Isn't that a little hypocritical?" Offense is the best defense, isn't it?

"Well, you didn't exactly call me either, didn't you?" And yet another verbal slap.

He has to be kidding, right?

He said he would call when he got back and now he is blaming you that you didn't call him?

That is ridiculous.

"For all I know I could have dropped from the edge of the world and you wouldn't have even noticed."

Suddenly sadness seems to fill every inch of you:

Isn't that what he did? Just disappear from the face of the world?

And you noticed his absence.

Yes, you noticed!

You have been starring at your phone for hours, days, even weeks for God's sake!

How can he dare to blame you that you wouldn't even notice?

The anger is back: "Oh, I would have noticed. And you know why? Because I actually _did _notice that you just disappeared for months."

"And how am I supposed to know that?"

He is right, isn't he?

You never picked up the phone and checked...

You were too proud to call.

This revelation hits you hard.

It feels like someone just punched you in the stomach.

You're in pain now. Plain and simple.

"You're always busy and buried in work. Your job seems to be the only thing you actually care about." Why can't he just stop it?

"I love my job." You try to pull yourself together. You are being weak. You hate being weak.

"I love my job, too. And being dedicated to a job you love is one thing. But not giving a damn about anything else is a completely different chapter."

Slap.

That is so not fair.

You give a damn.

Would you be sitting right here right now if you didn't?

You feel sick.

This conversation wasn't supposed to go this way.

"I'm not..." you start but you have no idea how to continue.

Your mind is empty.

Blank.

A deep dark hole.

There is nothing there.

Just darkness.

Cold darkness.

And it starts eating you up.

You take a deep breath and try to fight that blackness but you don't seem to stand a chance. It's everywhere.

"Is that what you want from life, Diane? Running from one appointment to the other?" His tone has changed. It is more gentle now but you can't bring yourself to appreciate it.

"I..." You don't know. Neither the answer nor how to continue. Or do you? "I don't."

"But that's what you're doing, you realize that? Just running from one meeting into another?

You always have some appointment. And it always seems to be more important than.. than us."

"I didn't even know that there was still an us." You still feel deserted. There seems to be nothing left inside of you. You're speaking without actually thinking about it and you are still staring at the wall. Is this actually happening?

"I'm surprised you used the word "still". That means you actually realized there was an "us" at some point along the way." And yet again it doesn't sound like an accusation but rather like a matter of fact.

"Of course I did."

"But you were always doing a pretty good job not to let it show. You seem to be so fixated on not letting anybody close that it's hard to tell if you actually want someone to care about you. You're always about showing how well you can do on your own. Like tonight. You insisted on coming over even though the roads are a mess and I offered to stop by your place. But well, you insisted on meeting here and again I spent an hour worrying for your safety."

You turn your head and finally look at him again. What is the point of all this? "So you wanted to talk about.. what?" You shrug helplessly, "The fact that you worry about me but you wish you wouldn't?" It doesn't make any sense. At some point the conversation must have taken a wrong turn or you missed something.

"No" he replies and looks down at his hands. "I wanted to talk to you about what went wrong." He looks back up to you: "I thought we could sit down, move past the mistakes we've made and see if we could make it work somehow. But I didn't even get started and you were already talking about that stupid deposition again. So I'm not sure you actually want to move on and leave these things behind. Honestly? I'm not sure you are actually able to do that."

You close your eyes because you just can't stand it anymore...

So you ruined it. You and your damn pride. The truth feels cruel. Devastating.

You should have let him finish his sentence,

told him that you cared,

appreciated him worrying about you,

let him care about you.

You should have let him love you.

"I'm sorry." You know that these words are not enough but they are the only ones you can find right now so you say them again: "I'm sorry."

"Diane." You startle a little because suddenly his voice is right next to you. His tone has changed. It is now soft and tender, warm. He gently touches your right hand. It starts to burn immediately in a way only he makes your skin burn and you open your eyes just to stare at this hand.

He carefully pulls you onto your feet and you are not sure your legs can carry you right now. You already felt exhausted before you even got here. Now, after all he said, after all you said, you don't even feel up to the task of standing anymore.

"Look at me." You slowly lift your head. As your gaze meets his your knees seem to start trembling and for a moment you actually fear that you might fall...

But the next second you feel his arm around you. You are not going to fall. If your knees give in, he is going to hold you. This feeling is reassuring.

"It's not about blaming or accusing. It's about the question whether or not we can make this work. If we both _want_ to make this work."

"I.. I understand." And you do. But you are wishing that he had said these things earlier. Or did he say it earlier and you didn't listen?

It doesn't matter now. Right now there is just one question that is important to you:

"And... Where do we go from here?"

In a moment of deep silence you try to find the answer in his eyes.

"I don't know." You have no idea what you expected him to say but that wasn't it. This answer just causes more pain... "Where do you want us to go?" You can feel how a heavy weight suddenly falls from you. From all over you. From your shoulders, your heart and even your soul.

You don't have an answer to his question. You know it's neither "Costa Rica" nor "away".

You want to stay in Chicago,

stay at your firm,

stay with this man.

Is this too much to ask for?

Your mind is a mess, you are trying to form an answer but the words just keep on failing you so you just lean forward to kiss him.

The pain and the cold inside of you seem to vanish the moment your lips touch.

You feel his right hand on your cheek, his left on your back, his lips on yours and it just feels right. You close your arms around his neck. That's how it is supposed to be...

When he slowly pulls back, you refuse to let him leave more than a few centimeters.

"I really hate you right now." You whisper without thinking about it.

You don't know if it is true or not, you don't even know if you mean him or if you are talking to yourself. It is a little bit of everything, you'd guess.

"Does that mean that you wanna leave?"

You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of that question. It feels good. After all that has been said it feels good to laugh. It sets you free.

"So I guess no one is going anywhere..."

He says and before his lips banish every concern, doubt and thought from your mind you can hear a little voice whispering from far far down in the dark:

"At least not tonight."


End file.
